ober Mhuire_.

O thy cool, sweet waters dripping,
_Tober Mhuire_,
Now my sere lips would be sipping,
_Tober Mhuire_.
O my lips are sere and burning--
For thy waters I'll be yearning,
And yon road of no returning,
_Tober Mhuire_.

O thy coolness and thy sweetness,
_Tober Mhuire_.
O thy sureness and completeness,
_Tober Mhuire_.
O this life I would be leaving,
With the greyness of its grieving,
And the deeps of its deceiving,
_Tober Mhuire_.

I would sip thy waters holy,
_Tober Mhuire_.
While the drops of life drip slowly,
_Tober Mhuire_--
Till the wings of angel whiteness,
With their softness and their lightness,
Blind me, fold me, in their brightness--
_Tober Mhuire_.

SLEEPY SONG.

(_Sung by Grainne to Diarmid in their Flight from the Fians_.)

Sleep a little O Diarmid, Diarmid,
Sleep in the deep lone cave;
Sleep a little--a little little,
Love whom my love I gave--
Wearily falls O Diarmid, Diarmid,
Wearily falls the wave.

Sleep a little, O Diarmid, Diarmid,
Sleep, and have never a fear;
Sleep a little--a little little,
Love whom I love so dear--
A weary wind, O Diarmid, Diarmid,
A weary wind I hear.

Sleep a little, O Diarmid, Diarmid,
Sleep, while I watch till you wake;
Sleep a little--a little little,
Love whom I'll ne'er forsake--
Sleep a little, and blessings on you
My lamb, or my heart will break.

SONG OF THE SEA.

The sea sings loud, the sea sings low,
And sweet is the chime of its ebb and flow
Over the shingly strand;
For its strange, sweet song that woos my ear
The first man heard, as the last shall hear--
Seeking to understand ...

THE DEATH OF CUCHULLIN.

Now when the last hour of his life drew nigh,
Cuchullin woke from dreams forewarning death;
And cold and awesome came the night-bird's cry--
An evil omen the magician saith--
A low gust panted like a man's last breath,
As morning crept into the chamber black;
Then all his weapons clashed and tumbled from the rack.

For the last time his evil foemen came;
The sons of Calatin by Lugaid led.
The land lay smouldering with smoke and flame;
The duns were fallen and the fords ran red;
And widows fled, lamenting for their dead,
To fair Emania on that fateful day,
Where all forsworn with fighting great Cuchullin lay.

Levarchan, whom he loved, a maid most fair,
Rose-lipp'd, with yellow hair and sea-g